


Believe The Writings On Public Bathrooms' Walls (thanks Azazel)

by apprentieguerriere



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, Charles You Slut, Charles what are you doing, Erik this is slightly creepy, I do not know how I ended up writing something so filthy, M/M, Modern Setting, Oral Sex, Porn with a tiny plot, Sex Toys, Sexting, lots of sexting you are warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 06:39:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2803124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apprentieguerriere/pseuds/apprentieguerriere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the Tumblr prompt : "I found your number in the bathroom stall and i’m gonna sext you as a joke but it turns out serious au"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Believe The Writings On Public Bathrooms' Walls (thanks Azazel)

Charles is drunk. Piss drunk. Speak-too-loud-and-think-everyone’s-my-friend drunk. It’s okay, though : he’s celebrating his first article on genetics to be published in a major science magazine. He _deserves_ to get that drunk.

  
His friends seem to be perfectly cool with that, if the way they keep refilling his glass is anything to go by. Only Hank looks less enthusiastic about the whole thing, occasionally mumbling things about alcohol poisoning and “Oh my God, Charles, stop hitting on everyone, you’re gonna get punched!”

  
All this drinking leads to him having to pee pretty soon, though, so he excuses himself and heads towards the bathroom situated at the end of the pub.

  
It’s a one person only unisex bathroom, and when he sees the state of the walls, floor and toilet, he thanks the gods he doesn’t have to sit down to pee like women do. He kinda wants to buy drinks to all women present to make up for the gross experience that peeing sitting down on the ruined toilet would be, but then again, a drink would make them have to pee more, so maybe it’s not a good idea.

  
He makes his way to the urinal, does his business, washes his hands and is on his way to leave when he spots, on the wall opposite of him, a statement written in big black letters :

  
 **I GIVE THE GREATEST BLOWJOBS 450-555-6324 PS I’M A MAN SO BE PREPARED FOR THAT**

  
Charles snickers : wow, he hadn’t seen one of those in a long time. On a whim, he enters the number in his phone under the name “BJ Guy”, thinking how hilarious it would be to take the piss off the guy a little.

  
He goes back to his friends, telling them about the writing and the number, and apparently he’s not the only one drunk off his mind because his friends, who are all as close to their thirties as he is, all agree that _Oh my God, it’s such a great idea it’s gonna be so funny come on text him!!!_ (Only Hank, again, frowns and says “I don’t know guys, isn’t it a little mean? I mean we don’t know that person, it’s kind of a dick move to harass them”, but Hank also refused to drink more than one beer because he has “research to do tomorrow” which needs him to be “clear-headed”, so he’s not to be listened to).

  
They debate on what to text the guy first, but Charles finally settles with :

  
 **Sent to BJ GUY :**  
 **Hmmm wish you were here to make me feel those great blowjob skills.**

  
They snicker like school-girls after the message is sent, waiting for an answer. After a minute has passed, Charles is afraid the person might not have their phone with them, but luck is on their side, as his phone soon chimes with the notification of an answer :

  
 **Received from BJ GUY :**  
 **What?!**

  
And then, immediately after that :

  
 **Received from BJ GUY :**  
 **Who is this??**

  
The table howls in laughter like this is the funniest thing that has happened in their lives. Alex keeps repeating “This is _so_ funny, oh man, this is SO funny!”.

  
Snickering, Charles replies :

  
 **Sent to BJ GUY :**  
 **Do you need to know who it is? Let’s just say I went to the bathroom at Pub Owells and am now very interested in your prowess ;)**

  
A few second, then :

  
 **Received from BJ GUY :**  
 **What?**

  
And

  
 **Received from BJ GUY :**  
 **Oh Jesus. Did you find my number in a bathroom at a pub? I’m gonna kill the fucker who did this.**

  
More howling laughter. “We’re University teacher”, Hank mumbles in a defeated tone.

  
 **Sent to BJ GUY :**  
 **Kill them with blowjobs?? ;)**

  
No answer this time. Encouraged by Darwin and Alex, Charles pushes on :

  
 **Sent to BJ GUY :**  
 **Aw, come on, don’t be like that. What’d you do if I were there with you? Would you suck my cock?**

  
Only a few seconds pass, then :

  
 **Received from BJ GUY :**  
 **Only if you’d suck mine afterwards.**

  
“Oh my GOD!” Darwin shouts.  
“This is amazing!” Alex yells.  
“University teachers”, Hank repeats mournfully.

**Sent to BJ GUY :**  
 **Of course I would. But you need to show me your technique first : I might learn a few things. How would you start? My hard dick is waiting ;)**

  
This is the corniest shit Charles has ever texted, and also the most hilarious. The guys wait in anticipation for an answer, but it doesn’t come, and after a few minutes, they lose interest and start talking about other things.

  
They leave the pub at around 3 am, and Charles gets a cab back to his flat, having all but forgotten about the BJ guy thing, up until he checks his phone before going to bed and notices an unopened text notification. He opens it, hoping the guy is not giving him grief for his behaviour (which even he could admit was lacking a little bit in class).

  
 **Received from BJ GUY :**  
 **I’d start by stroking it in my hand, learning the weight and feel of it, and then I’d lean in and lick a stripe from base to tip. I’d lap a little on the slit, messily, to get a first taste of you, and then I’d take you in my mouth.**

  
Charles gets so hard so fast he gets dizzy with it. Ok, maybe it’s because he hasn’t had sex in nearly five months, but fuck, that sounds delicious. It’s a testimony of how drunk he is that he doesn’t even second-guess it before flopping down on his bed, shoving his pants down enough to get his cock out, starting to jerk it off, and typing clumsily with his free hand :

  
 **Sent to BJ GUY :**  
 **And then what?**

  
The last text from the guy has been an hour ago, and Charles is afraid he might not have his phone with him or have gotten to sleep. He could have gotten off to this single text, to be honest, but lucky for him, the guy responds within a minute :

  
 **Received from BJ GUY :**  
 **I’d suck you, gently at first, massaging the head of your cock with my tongue. I’d take it slow : I’d like to tease until you’d be begging for me to let you come.**

  
Charles gasps, hand speeding up.

  
 **Sent to BJ GUY :**  
 **Would you?**

  
**Received from BJ GUY :**  
 **Let you come? Of course. When I’d feel like you were desperate enough, I’d swallow you down to the root, working you with my tongue and my throat. You wouldn’t last long after that : soon enough, I’d feel you pulsing, and I’d pull off just a little to taste you’re hot come on my tongue.**

  
Holy _shit._ Charles moans, loudly, and comes, body arching off the best. Fuck, that guy is good with words. And Charles does have a weakness for dirty talk – or well, dirty texting, whatever.

  
 **Sent to BJ GUY :**  
 **Wow, you are great at this. Thanks man.**

  
Feeling both the alcohol and the orgasm pull him under, he tosses his phone to the side, cleans up a little with the tissues on his bedside table, and falls asleep, still half-dressed.

  
\---------------

  
He wakes up the next morning with a horrible taste in his mouth, a pounding headache and a nauseous stomach. Miraculously, he manages to make it to the bathroom without throwing up, brushing his teeth vigorously, swallowing two aspirins and taking a leak before going back to bed. He groans pitifully the whole time.

  
This is gonna be one of _those_ days.

  
He wakes up again a few hours later, and the clock on his bedside table tells him it’s past 2 pm. His stomach is growling, and though he still feels nauseous, he needs to eat something, and more importantly to drink water.

  
So he hauls himself out of bed, makes his way to the kitchen, gulps down two glasses of water and starts to make himself some eggs and bacon – the perfect hangover meal. It’s only when he’s watching the eggs sizzle in the pan that it comes back to him : the stranger. He sexted a stranger. He came to the sexts of a stranger. Oh God.

  
He thinks he’s gonna die of mortification : what the fuck is wrong with him! He masturbated to the words of a complete stranger, someone he doesn’t even know the name of! Oh God, what must that guy have thought of him. He has to text him, apologize for his behaviour.

  
He goes to fetch his phone to do just that, and sees he’s got two new texts. He unlocks his screen, and sure enough, they’re from blowjob guy:

  
 **Received from BJ GUY :**  
 **My pleasure. Now, let’s see what you’ve got.**

  
And about 15 minutes later :

  
 **Received from BJ GUY :**  
 **Fuck, have you fallen asleep?? Alright, I’ll forgive you, but you still owe me one.**

  
Charles stares at his screen in horror, not knowing what to do. The guy really wants him to reciprocate? That’s crazy! He doesn’t even know him!

  
But then again, neither did Charles when he got off to his words while he was drunk. Maybe that guy was drunk too. Maybe he’s as ashamed as him today. But just as he's thinking this, like he’s in the worst fucking sitcom of America, his phone chimes in his hand : new message.

**Received from BJ GUY :**  
 **What, don’t tell me you’re not gonna follow up on your promise?**

  
Holy shit. That guy really wants him to sext him.

  
On one hand, he _does_ owe one to the guy, and he _did_ promise reciprocation. But no! This is so wrong! He just can’t do that, he doesn’t even know the guy’s name. And for all he knows, he’s just taking the piss back at Charles.

  
Decided to forget this whole story, Charles goes back to his meal, now ready, and starts eating slowly while reading the newspaper to take his mind off blowjob guy. It’s not successful, though, as 20 minutes later, his phone chimes again, and sure enough, it’s him again :

  
 **Received from BJ GUY :**  
 **Well, this is disappointing.**

  
Goddammit.

  
The guy seems pretty serious about this, and now Charles feels bad. He has made a promise, and he made fun of the guy like a total jerk before getting off to his texts. He kinda owes him.

  
Plus, it’s not that weird, right? People get off to other people’s words all the time. Some people even call sex lines to get off to the sound of a stranger’s voice. No, this is totally not so bad. He can totally do this.

  
Taking a breath, he starts typing :

  
 **Sent to BJ GUY :**  
 **You’d be sitting on the bed, and I’d be kneeling on the floor, between your legs. I’d take you out of your pants slowly, and stroke you to full hardness.**

  
There. That’s not so bad, is it?

  
Charles waits anxiously to see if the stranger is gonna answer, and how, and under a minute, his phone chimes :

  
 **Received from BJ GUY :**  
 **And then?**

  
Ok. Alright. Ok. He’s got this.

  
 **Sent to BJ GUY :**  
 **I’d lean in and slowly start licking on your cock’s head, lapping at the precum there. I’d wait until I’d had my fill before finally taking you in my mouth, going as deep as I could.**

  
**Received from BJ GUY :**  
 **That’s good. Go on.**

  
Wow. Kinda bossy. But also encouraging? Anyway.

  
 **Sent to BJ GUY :**  
 **I’d listen to you to try to understand what you like best – everyone’s dick is different, after all. What does it for you? My tongue pushing at your slit? Deep, powerful sucks? Suckling at the head while jerking you off? I’d do whatever you’d seem to like best.**

  
Ok, Charles is getting hard now. Because of his own sexting. Directed at a stranger. The situation is _beyond_ weird, and so Charles decides to put an end to it as quickly as possible – which pretty much means making the stranger come. So for his next text, he settles for a quite graphic fantasy that seems to get off most guys – or at least the ones he’s been with.

  
 **Sent to BJ GUY :**  
 **I’d let you come wherever you want, too. In my mouth, sucking every last drop out of you, or on my tongue, mouth open as I jerk you off through it. Or maybe you’d prefer taking yourself in hand and jerking off until you’d come all over my face, marking me with it?**

  
Charles waits, hoping that’s been sufficient... And sure enough, not even one minute later, he gets :

  
 **Received from BJ GUY :**  
 **Wow, STUNNING finale. 10/10. Thanks, man. Let’s do this again sometimes.**

  
Charles doesn’t pay much attention to the last part of the message : surely the man is joking. In any way, his part of the bargain is fulfilled (which leaves him strangely satisfied), and so he can put this embarrassing story behind him and never think about it again. Yup, that’s a good plan.

  
\-----------------

  
Except it turns out the man was completely serious about doing it again, and that’s how two days later, Charles ends up dropping tea all over his desk when, holding his cup in one hand, he picks up his phone to check the text he just received, which simply reads :

  
 **Received from BJ GUY :**  
 **Busy?**

  
Charles is so taken aback he doesn’t even try to wipe the mess spreading on his papers, gaping at his phone. He texts back :

  
 **Sent to BJ GUY :**  
 **You can’t be serious right now??**

  
**Received from BJ GUY :**  
 **Why? This works way better than porn for me. Not for you?**

  
Charles blushes. Okay, so maybe it _was_ more arousing then porn. But stil!!

  
 **Sent to BJ GUY :**  
 **That’s not the point! I don’t even know your name!**

  
**Received from BJ GUY :**  
 **Erik. Yours?**

  
Charles stares at his screen for a few seconds, not knowing what to do. On one hand, this is creepy as fuck. On the other, it is also very hot. If Charles had known interactive sex chat would turn him on so much, he’d have gone to chatrooms way before, and... This is kinda way better than chatrooms.

  
He methodically wipes the mess on his desk while he thinks about the whole thing, grimacing at the notes he’ll have to rewrite for sure, before taking his phone again.

  
 **Sent to BJ GUY :**  
 **Charles.**

  
There. He’s done it.

  
 **Received from BJ GUY :**  
 **Well, Charles, do you like getting fucked?**

  
Holy fucking shit. That sure is one hell of an opener.

  
Already half-hard, Charles sits down at his desk, no longer entertaining any doubt about whether or not he’s going to get off on this. He’s barely opened his jeans when he receives another text :

  
 **Received from BJ GUY :**  
 **Or maybe you prefer doing the fucking?**

  
So it’s gonna be a little more interactive, this time. Alright. He can work with that.

  
 **Sent to BJ GUY :**  
 **I like fucking, but I love getting fucked more.**

  
That’s not even a lie. Charles thinks about making a comment on his large collection of dildos, but the guy (Erik, he corrects mentally) beats him to it :

  
 **Received from BJ GUY :**  
 **How convenient. I for one prefer topping. I bet your ass would feel real nice around my cock, all tight and squeezing.**

  
... And now that he’s saying this, Charles really wants something up his ass. He gets up and practically runs to his bedroom, peeling his pants off in a haste before reaching into his bedside table to take his favourite dildo along with a bottle of lube. He stretches on the bed, on his stomach, phone just below his nose so he can stare at it and type one-handed while he reaches with his other arm to start prepping himself.

  
 **Sent to BJ GUY :**  
 **God, I’d love that.**

  
**Received from BJ GUY :**  
 **Yeah? And in what position would you like it best?**

  
God, so many, Charles thinks desperately. He’s got two fingers in now, scissoring, and it’s awkward to type in this position, but he manages :

  
 **Sent to BJ GUY :**  
 **On my stomach, with you pinning me on the bed while you’re fucking into me.**

  
**Received from BJ GUY :**  
 **Hmm, that sounds delicious. I wouldn’t start by fucking you right away, though. I’m not some kind of animal. I’d start slow, sucking on the lovely flesh of your ass while opening you with my fingers. I’d try to find your prostate like this, rubbing to see what kind of noise I can get out of you. I wouldn’t stop until you’d be begging for my cock.**

  
Charles groans out loud. He does love a man who makes him beg for it.

  
Feeling ready for more, he takes his fingers out, coats his dildo in lube and slowly starts pushing it inside himself, moaning at the delicious burning it causes. He stops once it’s flush against his prostate, and then he starts fucking himself with it, rubbing his cock on the bed at the same time. He won’t last much longer like this. Panting, he fumbles with his phone to send another text :

  
 **Sent to BJ GUY :**  
 **God, I wish you would do that. I love when they make me beg. I unfortunately didn’t have the willpower to tease myself much long before getting to it.**

  
A beat, then :

  
 **Received from BJ GUY :**  
 **What do you mean?**

  
Through his lust haze, Charles manages to smirk. He knows the effect the next text will have.

  
 **Sent to BJ GUY :**  
 **I mean that I’m on my bed, on my stomach like I told you I’d want you to fuck me, and I’m fucking myself with a dildo. God, it feels so good, Erik.**

  
The next text actually takes a little time to arrive, and Charles almost worries he’s broken Erik.

  
 **Received from BJ GUY :**  
 **Fuck, Charles, this is so hot. I bet you sound absolutely filthy, moaning while you’re fucking yourself with your toy. God, the things I’d do to you. I’d fuck you until I couldn’t help but come inside that pretty ass of yours, and then I’d take that dildo and fuck you with it too, using my come as lube, until you couldn’t come anymore and you’d be too fucked out to even speak.**

  
That does it : Charles has barely finished reading the text before he’s coming, all but shouting as the orgasm tear through him like a lightning strike.

  
He doesn’t remember the last time he came that hard.

  
He wonders how his life became so weird.

  
\----------------

  
This... _thing_ they’ve got going goes on for about three weeks. But slowly, they start speaking about other stuff between the dirty talk ; Charles tells Erik that he’s a professor at Columbia, and Erik replies that he’s an engineer for Stark Industries, which means he works less than 2 miles away from where Charles works. They also talk about shared interests, and find out that they’re both passionate about literature, politics, and chess. Their opinions vary on a lot of aspects of the first two things, but the conversations they have about it, though brief, are deeply interesting. As for chess, they start playing online against one another, and gradually, Erik becomes a more and more constant presence in Charles’ life. He keeps it secret from his friends, though, and especially from his sister Raven : no need to tell them he’s developing a relationship with a stranger who’s number he found in a bar bathroom, especially since their relationship is 80% sexting and 100% virtual contacts.

  
Charles doesn’t even know what Erik looks like, for Christ sake. But he knows his last name –Lensherr- and so one night, his curiosity getting the best of him, he can’t help but Google him. He doesn’t expect to find much, but it turns out the Stark Industries keep public profiles of all their engineers, with their competences, achievements, and a professional-looking picture. Charles clicks on Erik’s name, and is met with the face of a man who’s – wow. Fucking gorgeous. If Erik is truly who he says he is, then he is actually the hottest man Charles has ever seen, including the guys he used to wank off to in the playboy magazines he used to illegally buy when he was a teenager. The man has got a square jaw, sharp cheekbones Charles want to bite, a magnificient mouth and green-gray eyes, so entrancing Charles could probably write poetry about them. Charles actually has to get a hand down his pants to jerk off, messy and fast, turned on beyond belief at the thought of that guy doing what he said he wanted to do in their texts.  
He comes fast, and on the aftermath, hand still sticky with come, all he can think is _“I am well and truly fucked.”_

  
Charles knows it’s creepy, but after that, he can’t help but obsess over the thought of actually meeting the guy. He already knows he’s got a perfectly dirty mind, he’s the most gorgeous thing to have ever walked this earth, and they’ve talked enough that Charles also actually want to have conversations with him, not just jump his bones at every opportunity. But he knows it’s way out of line for the relationship they have, and that Erik would probably find it terribly bizarre and stop talking to him at all – so he doesn’t say anything.

\-----------------

  
The sexting continues, and it’s even more arousing to Charles now that he knows what the guy feeding him dirty and vivid images looks like. It gives for the best masturbation sessions he’s ever had, and he’s almost crazy with it. On one particular afternoon when Charles is at work, Erik manages to convince him to escape to the bathroom for a quick wank-off, which turns out spectacularly quick when Erik decides to exploit the theme of rimming. Just picturing that perfect face between his thighs as he laps at his hole makes Charles half-mad with desire, and he comes fast and hard, jamming his tie in his mouth to muffle his moans.

  
All in all, this thing they have, it’s almost perfect.

  
\-----------------

  
Almost perfect things can’t stay almost perfect forever, though : at some point, they either tip towards perfect, or take a plunge towards awful. And so the evening after that, Charles is at home, alone, when he receives a text from Erik. He’d thought, after all the things they’ve said to each other, that he couldn’t be overly surprised at whatever the man could come up with, but he’s still left gaping when he reads it :

  
 **Received from ERIK :**  
 **Ok, this is probably gonna sound super creepy, but... I’d like to meet you. As much as this virtual relationship of ours is great, I’d like to see what you look like in person. I find you very interesting, and I’d like to know you for real. So would you like to meet up with me for coffee this weekend?**

  
The first reaction that Charles get is pure, unaltered joy : Erik wants to meet him! He wants to know him for real! That’s more than he even dared to hope for, and now he’s got it!  
But then, anxiety starts to make its way in his thoughts : what if Erik is disappointed when he sees him? He himself is gorgeous, and while Charles isn’t ugly by any standards, he’s still, well, average. His academic life hasn’t left him with a very athletic body, and while he knows his face is attractive in a delicate kind of way, he also knows he’s more close to “cute” than “drop-dead gorgeous”.

  
And what if, once they start talking, they just don’t click together? What if what is great in texts turns out to be dreadfully boring in reality?

  
But he can’t let that stop him. He’s got to take that step : their relationship isn’t viable as it is, and over a slow death, Charles will take a clean cut every time. So he replies :

  
 **Sent to ERIK :**  
 **I’d love that! I’ve actually been thinking about meeting you for a while too. Let’s say Saturday, 2 pm? Did you have a place in mind?**

  
Erik replies after a few minutes with the address of a coffee shop that is right in the middle of where they both work. Charles texts his agreement with that choice, and just like that, they’ve got a date.

  
It’s only Wednesday. Charles does not know how he’s going to be able to function until their meeting.

  
\-----------------

  
The next two days are absolutely horrible. Charles is distracted at work, incapable of concentrating on anything, and nothing can take his mind off the date. The more Saturday comes closer, the more Charles is filled with anxiety and obsesses about every little thing that could go wrong. He tries to occupy himself with other things, going out and seeing other people as much as possible, but it’s to no avail, and he’s pretty sure his entourage is starting to worry about him. To make things worse, both Erik and he have stopped texting each other, Charles because he’s too worked up to come up with anything, and Erik for Lord knows what reason.

  
On Friday, Charles goes to bed earlier than usual, hoping it will make Saturday come faster, and when he wakes up the next morning, he tries to stay in bed for as long as possible. He seriously hates himself for not suggesting a morning date instead of an afternoon one ; what is he supposed to do to fill the hours between the time he wakes up and the time he has to leave?? He tries to busy himself with mundane things that won’t take too much concentration ; he dusts and vacuums his entire apartment, cleans the bathroom, and goes as far as re-organizing his closet by type of clothing and colour – it’s pretty pathetic. But at last, it’s time for him to go, and he doesn’t even try to stay a little longer in his apartment to try and be fashionably late – he’s way too eager. And besides, it’s really not his type, and he’d like to be as genuine as he can with Erik this afternoon – if he doesn’t like him, at least, he’ll know fast enough.

  
When he enters the coffee shop, he can’t help but like Erik a little more for his choice : it’s a very casual place, with not too many people scattered around the tables and comfortable-looking seats, and it’s got a very homely look to it.

  
He looks around the place, wondering wildly how Erik is supposed to recognize him – and yeah, that’s weird, why hasn’t he asked for some kind of indication as to what Charles would look like, or what he looks like? It’s not like he knows Charles creepy-googled him – but before he can worry for too long, his eyes stop on a man he recognizes from his sharp jaw and silver eyes and -  
Holy shit.  
Holy shit.

  
Charles wouldn’t have thought it possible, but he’s even more gorgeous in person. He doesn’t even think before he starts moving in his direction, legs carrying him before he can even realize he’s willed them to. He’s before Erik in seconds, and the man looks at him for a moment before brilliantly smiling and getting up from where he was seated.

  
“Hi”, Charles says, unable to keep a goofy grin from spreading on his lips, “I’m...”  
“Charles”, Erik cuts him off, a wide answering smile on his face. “Yes, I know, wow, it’s so good to meet you!”  
“The pleasure is mine”, answers Charles, extending his hand to shake Erik’s. His grip is firm, and his hand warm and slightly calloused, and Charles’ knees weaken when he thinks about those hands on his body.

  
But then something catches his attention, and he frowns, taking away his hand.

  
“Wait, how did you know it was me?” he asks.

  
Erik actually blushes. It’ adorable.

  
“Hum, yeah”, he mumbles with a sheepish smile that gives him a boyish look. “I know it’s creepy, okay, but I kind of Googled you... Saw your profile pic on Columbia’s website.”  
Charles laughs out loud.  
“Oh, my friend, it’s not creepy”, Charles reassures. “Or well, if it is, I am in no place to judge : I did the same thing. I found your profile on the Stark Industries website.”

  
Erik smiles, wide and honest, and chuckles warmly.

 

“Well, that’s good, then. We’re both creeps. Considering what we’ve been doing for the past month, it comes as no surprise.”

  
It’s Charles’ turn to blush at that, and Erik smirks slightly before gesturing at him to sit down.  
A waitress immediately comes forward to take their orders, and Erik asks for an espresso while Charles orders a vanilla latte. Erik lifts an eyebrow at that, and Charles scoffs.

  
“What? Are you already judging me? I have a sweet tooth, and I will not feel ashamed for it!”

  
Erik laughs, and the conversation flows easily from then on. Charles actually can’t believe how easy it is to speak to Erik – it feels like they’ll never run out of things to say. At least they don’t for a good hour, until their coffees are finished and Charles catches Erik staring at his lips for what must be the hundredth time, and he smirks.

 

“As much as I love this place”, he says, “and as much as I love talking to you, I feel like you’d like me to do other things with my mouth, and in a more private setting. Am I wrong?”

  
Erik’s eyes darken with heat and lust, and he must have been waiting for a cue like this one for a while, because all he says is :

  
“My place is not far from here, a five minutes walk at most. Come with me?”  
“Yes.”

  
Charles doesn’t think he’s ever wanted anything more, actually.  
They settle the bill, and Charles let Erik guide him through the streets to his apartment.

  
\-----------------

  
The door to Erik’s place has barely been shut before Charles all but jumps the other man, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him down so he can kiss him. The kiss is perfect, messy and filthy with Erik’s tongue licking its way shamelessly inside his mouth, and Charles can’t help but whimper – _fucking whimper!_ – into it.

  
“Well, someone’s a little eager”, Erik chuckles when they break apart. “I take it you’re not interested in a tour of the apartment?”  
“Leading the way straight to your bedroom will be fine”, replies Charles, stealing another kiss from Erik.

  
One kiss turns to two, then three, and in the end, they barely make it to the bedroom before tearing each other’s clothes off, and Charles definitely has no idea as to what the apartment looks like. It doesn’t matter, though, not when he can stare at Erik’s perfect and well-defined body instead, and holy shit, his cock is huge. It makes his mouth water at the sight.

  
“See something you like?” Erik teases, sounding smug, and Charles rolls his eyes at the cheesiness of the line before pushing Erik down so he sits on the bed.

  
He kisses him one last time before dropping to his knees in front of him, the exact reproduction of what he said he’d do the first time he sexted him, and he smirks at Erik’s slack-jawed expression.

  
“Did I ever tell you how much I love to suck cock?” he asks conversationally.  
“No”, Erik says, sounding breathless already.  
“Well, I’d rather show than tell, then.”

  
And with that, he leans over and licks a broad stripe across Erik’s cock, revelling in the way it makes the man gasp. He’s got no patience to tease, though, and so he takes him in his mouth right after that.

  
Charles hasn’t lied about loving to suck cock, but frankly it’s been a while since he’s done it, and Erik is definitely the biggest he’s ever had. He tries to show technique, at first, but he’s not quite sure it’s working. Erik seems like a visual man, though, craning his neck to try to get a good look at Charles, so soon Charles gives up on trying to demonstrate perfect technique and instead makes a show of sucking him sloppily, getting his lips wet and giving him a sultry look from beneath his eyelashes (or at least he aims for sultry : he does have a huge cock in his mouth, so he’s not sure how it turns out).

  
It works, and very well : soon Erik’s thighs are trembling, and he starts to push lightly at Charles’ shoulders, gasping “Charles, you’ve got to stop, I’m going to... I’m... God, _Charles_ ”, but Charles only sucks harder, hollowing his cheeks and humming, and soon Erik is shouting his name at the ceiling as bitter warmth floods his mouth. He swallows as best as he can, and then pulls off to wipe at his mouth before smirking at Erik.

  
“I take it it was good, then?” he says, smug.

  
Erik looks absolutely broken. Charles is so proud.

  
“You”, he says, “You’re so... God, come here.”

  
Charles lets himself be pulled into his lap and kissed within a inch of his life, Erik’s tongue plundering his mouth. His own hardness is getting almost painful, and soon he’s desperately rubbing against Erik, seeking friction.

  
“God”, Erik says when they break apart, “as good as that blowjob was, I really wanted to fuck you the first time we did this.”

  
Charles pulls back a little at that, raising an eyebrow.

  
“My friend”, he says, “are you implying that you’re only considering one round for this? Because I must say I’m a little disappointed, then.”

  
Erik blinks at him a couple of time before a smirk starts spreading on his face.

  
“Well, we can’t have that”, he says silkily. “And recovering from the orgasm you just gave me will certainly give me the time to get you all wet and open and desperate for when I’m ready to fuck you hard.”

  
Charles can’t help but moan a little at that.

  
He’s so glad for the weirdness that got him there.

  
\-----------------

  
Afterwards, they’re both lying on the bed, dozing off, when Erik starts speaking again :

  
“This isn’t a one-time thing, right?” he asks.

  
He actually sounds a little unsure. Charles has to rise on one elbow to gape at him.

  
“Well I should fucking hope not”, he splutters when he finds his voice back. “You’re gorgeous and funny and smart and insanely good in bed and at dirty talk. You think I’m letting you go??”

  
For a second, he’s afraid he’s overstepped the lines of their sill-forming relationship, but Erik only smiles, bright and happy.

  
“Good”, he says, “because I’m not letting you go either. You’re so fucking perfect. I might actually have to thank Azazel for putting my goddamn number on this bathroom’s wall."

  
Charles flushes at the praise. Then, before the situation can get too serious, he says :

  
“Hey, by the way, I still don’t know if that statement was true!”

  
Erik frowns at him.

  
“What statement?”  
“The one with your number in the bathroom, that said you gave the greatest blowjobs. You know, most of the things written in public bathrooms are bullshit...”

  
Erik smirks at that, clearly seeing the challenge there.

  
“Well, let me live up to the legend, then”, he says before sliding down Charles’ body.

  
It turns out not all the writings on bathrooms’ walls are wrong.


End file.
